 | Romance and revery |  |
101
AMOR INFELIX.
With blinding tears through sleepless nights
Against her doom the spirit fights,
Only at dawn once more to meet
The dull old anguish of defeat.
Against her doom the spirit fights,
Only at dawn once more to meet
The dull old anguish of defeat.
Though life to outward eyes may seem
An easy robe of silken gleam,
Yet ah! chafed limb and bosom know
The hempen shirt that stings below!
An easy robe of silken gleam,
Yet ah! chafed limb and bosom know
The hempen shirt that stings below!
For human hearts will sometimes keep
Their worst of wounds a secret deep,
And nothing lives beneath the day
That breaks in such a noiseless way!
Their worst of wounds a secret deep,
And nothing lives beneath the day
That breaks in such a noiseless way!
Wild passion cries, in savage pain:
“Though I move heaven, I will attain!”
But fact, that sways with iron rule,
Inexorably murmurs: “Fool!”
“Though I move heaven, I will attain!”
But fact, that sways with iron rule,
Inexorably murmurs: “Fool!”
102
To-day slow reason haunts the ear
With measured words of languid cheer;
To-morrow love's tyrannic need
Has snapped her logic like a reed!
With measured words of languid cheer;
To-morrow love's tyrannic need
Has snapped her logic like a reed!
“Why,” moans the voice of our distress,
“Must love stretch hands toward nothingness?
Can the great full-brimmed river be
That moves toward no receptive sea?”
“Must love stretch hands toward nothingness?
Can the great full-brimmed river be
That moves toward no receptive sea?”
Oh, fate, what pang so keen as lies
In the chill gaze of worshipped eyes,
When calmly meeting love intense
With vacuums of indifference?
In the chill gaze of worshipped eyes,
When calmly meeting love intense
With vacuums of indifference?
What cruelty has ever borne
Such dark profundities of scorn
As that which unto love can say
One irremediable nay?
Such dark profundities of scorn
As that which unto love can say
One irremediable nay?
A cruelty that though it sigh
With pity's tenderest reply,
Is like some hand that drives the blade
Still deeper in the wound it made!
With pity's tenderest reply,
Is like some hand that drives the blade
Still deeper in the wound it made!
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